


You Fell Into It

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [69]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Early Mornings, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:28:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian wakes up early and wants to wake Mickey up with a kiss; obviously Mickey has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Fell Into It

**Author's Note:**

> Based on - Person A has woken up in the morning and Person B is sleeping next to them. Person A thinks about how wonderful it is to be next to Person B. Then Person B rolls over in their sleep and their arm smacks Person A in the face.

Ian wakes to the light buzzing from his mobile that rested underneath his pillow. Ian grumbles from his curled position against Mickey's chest, and quickly retrieves its from its spot before all hell breaks loose because Mickey was woken up. Shifting onto his back, Ian fidgets to find his pills that lay on the night-stand. After Mickey insisted it had to be the first thing Ian did each morning, Ian grabs the bottle of water from the previous night and knocks back his three pills. Ian scoots onto his side, resting against his arm as he faced Mickey's sleeping form.

Mornings were shit for some, but for Ian he really loved them. Ian had always been the first up. He loved watching the sunrise across the horizon whilst on his morning run. He loved rummaging through the fridge for something edible, taking most of the poptarts just to annoy Mickey further. He also liked the fact that he lived without the struggle of racing towards the bathroom in the early hours of the morning.

There was one main aspect to his morning that he loved more than most, however, even more than his daily runs; the sight of Mickey Milkovich, peaceful and smiling in his sleep. Ian wouldn't admit, due to Mickey calling him something weird, that he would lay there for at least fifteen minutes, each morning, watching his boyfriend sleep and mumble against his pillow.

Despite the up-roaring noise of the house at early hours, Mickey was a really heavy sleeper, and most likely could sleep through an earthquake if the bed was comfortable enough. Ian also knew that Mickey was a restless sleeper, he'd toss and turn, pulling the blanket around himself and sprawling his body across the bed like a starfish. Sometimes Ian would get pissed, other times he'd find it cute.

This morning, Mickey was laid on his back, head to the side, mouth slightly parted as he took sharp, sweet breaths that created a small, whistling sound. Ian's finger slowly trails down the smooth bumps of Mickey's bare chest; Ian adored the pale, smooth skin that wasn't too toned and wasn't too flat. Some nights, even, Mickey would sleep in Ian's shirts, the fabric nearly falling at his knees as it hung against his small but stocky frame.

Ian trailed his finger over Mickey's neck, tracing over the red mark resting against the skin from the previous night. He looked over Mickey's features, falling for them all over again; just like every time. Mickey's hair was splatted against the pillow they shared, one strand falling helplessly against his forehead in a dull sweat from the mid-summer heat. Ian brushes it gently out of Mickey's eyes, hesitating to risk touching his face without waking him.

If you woke Mickey before the hour of nine you would be punched. Hard. In the dick. Three times.

Ian bites at his lip, wondering how the hell he could get so lucky with a _damn fine_ specimen that he could call his boyfriend, and most of all; _love of his fucking life._ He scoots a little closer, the blanket sliding down his own bare chest as it tucked itself between their bodies. Ian goes to press a gentle kiss when his phone starts buzzing all over again.

“ _shit.”_ Ian whispers to himself, turning over a little to get his phone back. Looking at the time, he realises that he has less than a minute to get up before getting ready for his morning run. Most times he'd get back and Mickey would still be asleep. 

Ian shuffles back towards Mickey, leaning up on his elbow he goes to plant a kiss against Mickey's parted lips when - 

“ _Ah fuck!”_ Mickey shuffles in his sleep, his arm swinging around and hitting straight into Ian's face , whacking against the bone of his nose. Ian jolts back, falling against the mattress as his hand clasped to his face, a nose bleed verging to break at any point. 

Mickey suddenly shoots up, leaning against his forearms, face panicked at Ian's violent outburst. “Wha – what's wrong?” He looks over at Ian, narrowing his eyes sleepily as he tried to helplessly work out the scene. 

Ian hisses through his teeth, using his leg to kick Mickey back in the shin. “You fucking hit me, asshole.” he continues to pinch his nose, groaning out a little over exaggeratedly. 

Rolling his eyes, Mickey lets out a light giggle before flopping himself down against the mattress. “Sorry, man.” He gives Ian an apologetic look, that hid a slight smugness beneath it. Mickey turns to his side, yawning into his hand as he read the time on Ian's phone. “Why the  _ hell  _ am I up? It's not even fucking nine, yet.” Mickey pulls the blanket over his head, curling further into the mattress. 

Ian lets go of his nose, checking for blood before shaking his head a little. Snappily, he taps a hand against the blanket, “I  _ was  _ getting up before you smacked me in the fucking face!” 

“You fell into it-”

“Yeah, sure I fucking did.” 

Mickey pulls back the blanket over his head, his eyebrows scrunched, eyes trailing over Ian as if he had just worked something out. “Wait – were you watching me sleep again?” 

Ian starts to blush, he denies, “ _ No...?”  _

Slapping Ian playfully against the chest, Mickey shuffles across the bed and over to his boyfriend, a smug smirk resting against his lips. “You fucking were, you creep, you gotta stop doing that, man. I might break it next time.” He leans up, tilting Ian's chin up as he examined the nearly bleeding nose that he had hit just moments before. 

“I can't help it,” Ian acts defensive, looking up towards Mickey through his lashes. “It's just, you're so cute when you're sleeping, you know.” He smiles, childishly, one hand scooping up the back of Mickey's neck, his fingers threading through the tussled hair. 

Mickey rests his elbows against Ian's chest, letting go of his face. Scowling, he bites at the skin of Ian's chest, gently, “I'm not fucking cute, Gallagher.” 

Ian nods frantically, “Yes, you are.” He reaches forward, before placing his forefinger against the tip of his nose – his giggle echoing through the room like music to Mickey's ears. “ _ Boop.”  _ Ian giggles. 

“ _Stop! No!”_ Mickey chuckles, rolling off Ian and smudging his face into their pillow. Ian follows, turning to his side, before poking Mickey in his. The brunette squirms away, squealing a little before his swatted a hand back, grunting. “Fuck off, Ian, let me sleep.” 

“Fine, tough guy.” Ian dims his giggles. “You go to sleep while _I_ do all the work around here.” 

Mickey mumbles a muffled  _ fuck off  _ into his pillow before turning his head towards Ian, eyes closed and smile still subconsciously at his lips. Ian smiles to himself before taking Mickey's hand and kissing at each inked knuckle, before pulling the blanket from around himself piling it over Mickey. 

Ian leans forward and places a kiss into Mickey's hair, “I'll be back.” 

Nodding, Mickey mumbles with demand. “Better fucking be.” 


End file.
